Pretty Like An Arrow
by Emmi Fireworkz
Summary: "Like an arrow, speeding towards its target; you could see it for a moment, but no more." That's how Smellerbee is pretty. Smellershot.


**A/N – This was inspired by a picture I found on Deviantart. http:/DoodleBuggy(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Steady-54765235. It's very cute. Also, tell me if you think I didn't do their personality right. But as a note about Longshot's thoughts in the beginning: He's been dealing with Smellerbee for four hours. Even a saint would be a tiny bit exasperated. Also, I'm sorry if they're OOC; I didn't see "Jet" and actually, neither of them have that big a role in the series.**

**I'm not entirely happy with how this turned out. It started out meaning to be romantic; then, I worked on it and it leaned toward friendship more; then, I worked on it again and tried to make it romantic this time. Considering I started this in December, I can't believe I didn't work on this more. But oh well. Tell me what you think!**

Longshot sighed, steadying Smellerbee's hand in his own. Jet had insisted she learn how to shoot an arrow, and he was, after all, the best one to do it. But really, after four hours of seeing her attempts, he wished she would just stick to swords and knives rather than bows and arrows. She had nearly decapitated Pipsqueak. It didn't help that she barely trusted him; they weren't exactly friends.

She loosed the arrow, and it flew through the air to land some six feet to the left of their makeshift target.

Smellerbee winced, then saw the look on Longshot's face. Her own face hardened. "So I need some work. Big deal."

_Of everyone in the Freedom Fighters, why did _I _get stuck teaching _her_? Oh right, I'm the Freedom Fighters' best shooter. But still, four hours of this kid and she still can't hit a tree to save her life? Even I have a right to be frustrated._

"No, you're fine." He replied softly. It wasn't true, but he didn't have to admit it.

Smellerbee rolled her eyes. "Yeah right."

_Let's try it again, _the look on his face said. She stepped into the proper stance for a ground shooter and stiffened her arm, drawing her hand back to her chin. Longshot saw them, the faults in her position, and stepped forward to correct her. But she had already nocked the arrow and let go.

Her eyes widened, seeing a familiar figure pass through the bushes. "Jet!" Smellerbee called, watching her arrow fly towards the tree he was emerging from behind.

He ducked immediately, spying the sharp projectile, and the dart buried itself in the wood above his head.

"Smellerbee!"

"I just haven't got the hang of it yet, okay?" She shouted back. Longshot shook his head.

"Well, keep up the lessons, Longshot. I want everyone in top shape for taking on the Fire Nation, and Smellerbee needs to improve majorly."

Smellerbee scowled at the rebuke, knowing it wouldn't do any good to argue with her leader. Jet walked on.

Smellerbee threw the bow on the ground. "Why can't I do it? What's wrong with me?" She looked at Longshot.

_Try it again._

Smellerbee huffed in exasperation and grabbed the bow roughly, jumping into position. There they were again; the flaws that would mess up any marksman.

Longshot shook his head as Smellerbee was about to shoot, and she stopped. Longshot bent down and swapped the positions of her legs, straightening one slightly and bending one at the knee.

Smellerbee nodded. "Is that all?"

Longshot shook his head. _One thing at a time._

Smellerbee loosed the arrow, and it fell short by two feet. Longshot nodded encouragingly, picking up his bow and showing the rest of the stance. Smellerbee copied him, but her arrow wobbled and stopped about three feet from the tree. Smellerbee's face grew dark, and she swore. "Why can't I do it? I'm not weak!"

Longshot tapped her shoulder. _It's not about weakness. This is different than what you're used to._

"Huh?" She replied, watching his face.

_This fighting style… there's nothing wrong with you. You're used to charging into battle, knives and battle cries and energy, but this is different. You need concentration, not raw power. And this is harder. You get one shot per arrow. You miss, and you start again. It's never easy to begin with._

"Then how come you can do it?" Smellerbee whined.

_Practice. I'll show you._

Smellerbee got into position more calmly, thinking about where she should go before getting there. Longshot nodded; he could see it, the way she concentrated and held her stance. It hadn't been her lack of ability hindering her; it had been her lack of concentration. Smellerbee hadn't been thinking about the exercise, and that had shown up. But there were still a few things to correct.

Smellerbee looked at Longshot for approval on her stance. He nodded. _Much better than before. Were you focusing earlier?_

Smellerbee shook her head, slightly embarrassed. "Don't tell Jet."

Longshot looked at her. _Would I?_

"No, I guess you wouldn't."

Longshot nodded, then bent her arm slightly, bringing the tips of her fingers just past her chin, a bit lower than her ear. Stretching his arm out straight, he braced her smaller one and straightened it.

Smellerbee stiffened. Longshot cocked his head then blinked, realizing exactly what position they were in – his arms wrapped around her, bracing her and holding her tightly. Smellerbee didn't have to say anything. Immediately, then and there, the two formed a silent pact. Never mention this to anyone; never speak of it again. It wasn't like it would ever matter, either.

Longshot loosened his fingers, unwrapping Smellerbee's tight hand from around the string. The string twanged, the arrow flying across the clearing to hit a spot a bit to the left on their makeshift tree target. Instantly Smellerbee stepped away from him, surveying the target. She crossed her arms, unimpressed.

Turning, Smellerbee made eye contact with Longshot. _Very good._

"No it wasn't." Smellerbee protested, eyes daring him to contradict her. She wasn't fishing for compliments; in Smellerbee's mind, if it wasn't perfect, it was nothing.

_Yes, it was. You don't want to admit it because you think you could have done better._

"Really?" Her voice was suspicious, trying to figure out whether he was lying.

Longshot nodded.

"All right, let's see how you're doing." Jet bustled back into the clearing, keeping a wide berth from the target.

Smellerbee promptly nocked her arrow, getting into her form. Longshot was pleased to note that she had remembered her mistakes and corrected them the way he had shown her.

Smellerbee loosed the arrow, and it flew across the clearing. Jet ducked out of instinct, even through it didn't even come near him, and Longshot didn't miss the look of hurt that momentarily passed over Smellerbee's face.

A thud drew their attention back to the tree and the arrow.

Smellerbee stared, then hid her expression. Longshot raised his eyebrows. Jet looked mildly impressed. Somehow or other (Longshot was sure it had been at least partially dumb luck) Smellerbee had managed to hit the same spot twice in a row; her previous arrow was now split perfectly down the middle.

Turning, Smellerbee looked at Longshot for approval. He nodded. _I knew you could._

"Hm…" Jet said. "Not bad. Train for a bit longer, until Smellerbee can hit a bit closer to the center of the tree."

Smellerbee bit her cheek as Jet walked away. Then she picked up the bow and got into position. Longshot stepped in to brace her and make sure she held her form. This time, rather than stiffening, Smellerbee relaxed. It was Longshot.

Smellerbee may not have noticed, but Longshot did. The corners of his mouth turned up, the closest he ever got to a smile. That was the first real gesture of trust and friendship she'd shown him.

"Well?" Smellerbee demanded.

Longshot nodded and adjusted her arm slightly. That was, as far as he could see, the only flaw. She had picked up more in those four hours than he thought; Smellerbee just hadn't bothered to put his lessons into practice.

As she loosed the arrow, Smellerbee locked her eyes on the center of the tree. _I'm going to hit it. I will hit it._

The arrow struck, revealing white wood behind the bark.

Smellerbee couldn't restrain a yell of, "I did it!" Longshot kept his eyes on her face and saw Smellerbee's whole expression light up with self-confidence: a rare thing for an androgynous girl in the Freedom Fighters. Or rather, _the _androgynous girl in the Freedom Fighters.

And she actually looked rather pretty, Longshot thought. Not in the conventional way; but the look on her face when she had achieved something hard, something girls weren't supposed to be able to do, was filled with joy. And yes, that joy made Smellerbee look pretty.

But he doubted most people would look long enough to see it.

He looked at her. _One more time._

Her face lost some of its radiant quality. She obviously thought that shot had had to do with luck alone.

_You can do it. That arrow wasn't luck, it was your doing. I thought you didn't believe in fate?_

She nodded, getting into position. Surveying her, Longshot saw no reason to correct her. Smellerbee noticed, too, and she was mixed with pride and disappointment. Pride because he thought she was finally getting it right, and disappointment because… well… she sort of missed having his arm at her back. It was nice to be treated like a girl for once.

Smellerbee shoved that thought out of her head. _You're getting soft,_ she told herself. _Stop._

She pulled back the string and released the arrow. And okay, so it didn't split her previous arrow like before. But it went reasonably close to the center, and Smellerbee was willing to overlook the fact that it's a big tree. She didn't just hit it; she got closer to a bull's-eye than ever before.

And then Smellerbee did something odd. She walked over to Longshot and gave him a hug. A quick one, to be sure, a very quick one, but a hug nonetheless.

"Thanks." She said as she let go. And she really means it.

Longshot looked at her. _You're welcome._ He watched for that brief flash of pretty, and wasn't disappointed; it was there for a split second. Then Smellerbee walked away, and it wasn't there anymore.

Like an arrow, speeding towards its target; you could see it for a moment, but no more. It just went too fast. But Longshot knew he wanted to see it more. And he wanted Smellerbee to feel it more, too.

Because goodness knows she needed it sometimes.


End file.
